Another Life
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: Ianto does not relish having a walk down memory lane.


Jack looked around as they made their way through the market. So many people, so much… stuff. Even for a former Time Agent who had been, literally, to the end of the universe, it was mind-boggling the sheer amount of life and material that mingled in these places – food, trinkets, clothes… one stall even boasted vinyl LPs and lampshades.

"These places never cease to amaze me," Jack mused.

Ianto just huffed beside him and strode on determinedly.

Jack gave him a look. Ianto really could be a bit of a snob at times. To Jack, this was variety. To Ianto, an annoyance. "You really don't see it, do you? The way life _teems_ , no matter what."

"Life?" Ianto grumbled snarkily, checking the tracker obsessively. "This way, Jack. Jack. Jack! We are _not_ here to rummage through action men!" Ianto hissed.

"What's with you today? You aren't usually this bitchy unless you've missed your coffee."

"I am not bitchy," Ianto snapped quietly. "I simply want to get on with this mission and get the hell out of here."

"It's a market, not a Weevil den."

"I remain unconvinced," Ianto said dryly.

Jack paused for a moment, and then it clicked. Ianto had grown up in this part of town. For as much a devotee of history and old things Ianto was, his own history was something he glossed over, when he didn't ignore the subject entirely.

Finally they located the correct stall and identified the item that was clearly not from planet Earth. Jack was prepared to haggle a bit when the seller quoted them a price of 375 pounds. Apparently, Dogon sixth-eyes were getting to be everyday items anymore.

Ianto, however, was in no such mood. "Alright, listen. You can have 50 pounds as a 'finder's fee', but we're not paying for that item – you're turning it in. Got that? Because if there's a problem, we can always arrange for you to take it up over tea with a lovely team from UNIT and MI5. Trust me, you don't want the bother. So, give us the eye and take the rest of the afternoon in the pub. Got it?"

The seller stared at Ianto for a long moment, then dropped the eye into the Torchwood zip-bag that Ianto was holding out.

"Perfect," Ianto said, pocketing the eye and handing over the promised cash in one fluid motion. He turned to leave immediately, all but running out of the market. Jack just shrugged at the merchant with a lop-sided grin, thanked him, and hurried to follow Ianto before he ended up walking back to the Hub. Ianto was waiting beside the SUV and threw the keys to Jack.

"Did you, uh…," Jack said, pointing at Ianto's pocket.

"It's in a containment unit, yes. Let's get a move on," Ianto said, getting in.

"Gotta hand it to you, you're efficient when you're bitchy."

Ianto didn't rise to it, concentrating instead on sending a message to the rest of the team that they'd secured the item and were on the way back.

"Bothers you that much, doesn't it?" Jack asked carefully as he drove, also carefully, in hopes of not annoying Ianto further.

"What does?"

"Coming here again."

At first, Ianto tried to ignore Jack, pretend he had no idea what Jack meant and didn't see any reason to answer. Then he let out a long sigh. "I hate it, Jack. Thoroughly. All I want to do right now is get back to the Hub and shower. I feel like I… need to get if off me."

"Get what off you? The past?"

"I was miserable growing up here, Jack. I was always so out-of-place. It was obvious to anyone that I didn't belong here." Ianto took another long breath. "My father had a stall in that market for a while, a long time ago. Rhi and I were kids. I'd always kind of suspected it was gear he'd nicked from Debenhams he was selling. Rhi loved it, mucking around weekends there with some of the other kids whose parents had stalls. I mainly sat there reading, hoping nobody actually asked me about anything. I swear, Jack, some nights I fell asleep with the words _rhedeg bant_ echoing in my mind. Uh… 'run away', that is."

Jack didn't say anything for a while. The impulse to run away from a less-than ideal upbringing was one he understood well, even if his circumstances had been quite different. After a while, Jack had an idea.

"Hey, Yan. After you've had a shower, want to get dinner? I've been craving that mustard chicken they do at that French place."

Ianto had no more trouble seeing through Jack than he did through the windscreen. He appreciated Jack's effort to remind him he'd found his place to belong, though. "Yeah, that'd be perfect, Jack. Thanks," Ianto said, reaching across to rest his hand on Jack's leg.


End file.
